Latex Paint Is So Much Fun

 

We painted each other

instead of the Wall.

 

My girlfriends fingers followed

the muscle lines

protruding through

my skin. Showing

her where to cut

and peel the paint

off my Back,

Legs,

Arms.

 

She saw only skin.

Her face was emotionless

as she painted patterns.

Broad shapes

meant to be torn,

as if she were skinning

a Chicken.

 

I wasn’t her lover.

 

Cold and naked

my skin stuck.

The drop cloth ripping

away the paint in sheets,

as she pulled me

off my knees.

 

I am the mannequin.

Exhaling the stiffness

when dyed skin is

left behind. Red

scar tissue appears.

 

Reviews

[eli mercuree rue]

i think you captured that feeling we all hate very well....

tht absense in emotion
protruding from one "lover" and not the other
ah

yes


the abruptness of heartbreak
shown with your imagery is justly ironic

hmm i feel like analysing stanza by stanza
you = the speaker of the poem

"We painted each other
instead of the Wall."

ok so here this can be taken quite literally or figuratively
like instead of relandscaping surroundings and advancing from that you all reconfigured each other
into this new mass... placement at the beginning of the poem symbolizes in the beginning of the relationship how it was


"My girlfriends fingers followed
the muscle lines
protruding through
my skin. Showing
her where to cut
and peel the paint
off my Back,
Legs,
Arms."

-ok [rest of this review is me seeing what i see beyond the text] here i feel that you helped her help you all of you holistically but you could not did not or were not allowed to reciprocate these actions because although you showed her where to go, she was inevitably in charge of the YOU wherever she was inside or outside the body



"She saw only skin.
Her face was emotionless
as she painted patterns.
Broad shapes
meant to be torn,
as if she were skinning
a Chicken."

progression in relationship i think this is where realizzation hits you and you have that thought of "hey i didnt sign up for this s**t" and that stinging feeling of "i doubt she loves me anymore" and every touch becomes a hated but longed for experience and the bad side of conscience lets you know that you are nothing more than a piece of meat.....



"I wasn't her lover."

enough said.. but she was still yours a you had love she didnt type deal


"Cold and naked
my skin stuck.
The drop cloth ripping
away the paint in sheets,
as she pulled me
off my knees."

deeper progression and the rejection pushes in and what was is left behind and her in control is leading you to a new venture in llife



"I am the mannequin.
Exhaling the stiffness
when dyed skin is
left behind. Red
scar tissue appears."


and its over all of it the poem and the relationship on key far from where it began.. its now empty and scarred well you're scarred i'm not sure about the other considering her position and possibly you feel as i feel about her not feeling anything at all..



poem enjoyed yet again

[Azalee Schmetterling]

Great use of irony. The images were very nicely implemented as well; "meant to be torn/as if she were skinning/ a Chicken". You have a very abrupt image-filled style. I can really appreciate it.